


String

by Manuscriptor



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Editing? I don't know her, I don't know how else to tag this, It Pronouns Used for Androids, M/M, No idea if this fits the canon timeline but I Tried, Red String of Fate, just a nice gen story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-01
Updated: 2019-04-01
Packaged: 2019-12-30 07:11:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18310727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Manuscriptor/pseuds/Manuscriptor
Summary: Slightly after the android revolution, before android rights had spread across the nation, Connor is taken by Cyberlife and successfully wiped of his deviency. He somehow gets abandoned in the desert, unaware of who he is, where he is, or why there's a small push in the back of his mind telling him that he needs to be somewhere else.With someone else.





	String

**Author's Note:**

  * For [InterstellarVagabond](https://archiveofourown.org/users/InterstellarVagabond/gifts).



Connor . . . . didn’t know where he was.

Yes, he was very certain he didn’t know where he was. He could catalogue the area: warm, hot, sand, open, empty. He could catalogue himself: complete, whole, alone, lost.

Strange.

Connor pushed himself to his feet and brushed down his front to clean himself of the sand. He was wearing clothes unsuitable to the weather. The slacks were neatly creased and cuffed at the perfect height, but they were black and made of a heavy material. His jacket was similar, insulated and double-lined, also black and the same material as his slacks.

It wasn't that he would get hot in the way a human could, but Connor didn't want his systems overheating. He quickly pulled it off, folding it over his arms and hiking up the sleeves of the button down shirt underneath.

His shoes were absolutely disastrous. He was wearing dress shoes that were absolutely not made to be walked over rough terrain, sand or otherwise. Connor inspected them and decided that they would make do until he found something to replace them with. He scanned his terrain again, trying to pick a direction that would be most profitable to walk in. Nothing stood out to him.

That wasn’t too much of a problem.

Connor chose a direction and started walking.

Nothing in particular set the direction apart as special or the best choice or where civilization would be, but something pulled him along. Connor didn’t question it. He put one foot in front of the other and kept walking. The sun crossed the sky just as he crossed the landscape. It was tedious, but Connor didn't stop. He didn't need to.

He had no idea where he was going but he couldn't stop walking. Something. . . . drove him, and he wasn't quite sure what it was. He had no missions currently logged and he didn't have any past missions saved to his database.

It was as if he had been wiped clean.

Connor couldn’t tell if he had been wiped clean.

He just kept walking.

It was a strange thing to walk and not get tired. Well, that wasn’t a completely accurate idea. Connor could feel his battery charge slowly draining. Not fast, but a fraction of a percentage here and there. Each step meant energy lost, but each step also meant progress gained. A little bit closer. A little less far.

Connor didn’t really know where he was going. He didn’t know what he was a little closer to and he didn’t know what he was getting away from either. Maybe it was nothing. Maybe he was walking for nothing.

Maybe he was walking towards something.

Connor had no idea.

When the sun dipped below the horizon and darkness faded over the place he was walking, something inside Connor told him he needed to stop. Logically, he didn’t. But humans did, and while Connor knew he wasn’t human, he liked to appear human. He didn’t know why, just like he didn’t know why he was walking, but he did it anyway.

There was no real need to find shelter, so Connor settled down on the dry sand and folded his coat next to him. He didn’t need to lay down complete, so he set his internal clock for seven hours from his current time and closed his eyes, allowing himself to slump as his systems all shifted into idle and allowed for them to recover after walking so long.

He rested without incident.

He woke up exactly seven hours later to wind buffering him in the face with handfuls of sand as the weather was not as calm or serene as it had been yesterday. The sun was still out, but now he had to push his way through small sandstorms. Connor didn’t mind that much. It wasn’t like he had skin that could be pierced or blood that he could bleed. As long as he kept his mouth closed, there was no real threat of it.

Connor continued walking in the same direction he had chosen yesterday. There wasn't any reason to change. Nothing inside him told him to go anywhere else.

Connor walked with the sun, same as before, jacket slung over his arm and sand slipping into his shoes with every step. It wasn't uncomfortable, but he did stop every couple hours to empty them out and put them back on. It gave him a rhythm to follow, something to do besides watch his mental clock.

Connor passed the time.

The time passed around Connor.

It was near the end of the day when he encountered the first landmark to break up the sprawling sand and cracked rocks. The old road he came across looked like it had been used for a long time and hardly repaired in its lifetime. Cracks ribbed the surface and there were potholes gouged out every several feet. Still, it was a nice break from the sand. His footing was much surer and after he emptied out his shoes one last time, he was able to walk without stopping.

The road had a different sort of traffic than the open desert did. Connor now saw lizards scuttling along every couple feet now that they didn't have the cover of natural rocks. They didn't mind Connor at all, more concerned with getting out of sight and into cover as soon as possible.

A couple birds no also circled overhead, probably more interested in the lizards than Connor, but a couple did dive-bomb him as a sort of investigation. They quickly lost interest though and went back to the normal hunting activities.

Connor felt the vibrations through the road before he saw the actual vehicle. The rumble and roar of engines much bigger than him grew louder and louder until Connor turned at the last moment before a truck, huge cabin and stretching cargo bed, blasted past him. The following winds whipped his hair up into a mess and tore at the jacket in his hands, as if trying to pull it out of his grip.

The truck was gone a moment later, speeding down the road and slowly fading into a smaller and smaller dot on the horizon. Connor stared after it for a long moment, comparing its progress to his, calculating the amount of distance he could cover if he could move just as fast.

It would definitely be better than walking.

Connor started down the road again, this time paying particular attention to the vibrations of the road. He wasn't sure how he would make a vehicle stop, but he had to try. The next time that he felt the hum and heard the beginnings of a roar, he turned around in the direction the car was coming and raised a hand, waving it in an effort to get the driver's attention.

It was another one of those huge trucks, nearly identical to the one that had passed him before. It was going fast as well, and Connor guessed that it probably wouldn't stop simply because of momentum and the space needed to do so. Connor continued to wave but wasn’t surprised when the truck blasted past him just like the other had. He closed his eyes against the wind and continued walking.

The next rumble that passed from the road up into his feet wasn’t as loud or jarring as the other two had been.

Connor turned and squinted against the sunlight reflecting off the windshield of the approaching vehicle. He raised his hand, even though he couldn't see the driver. If the car was smaller, it would have less momentum and speed and had a higher probability of stopping.

And it did.

It slowed down and the pulled over to the side of the road that Connor was on. He dropped his hand as the window rolled down and he was finally able to see who was driving.

It was a younger man, dressed finely but not overly formal, like he had a business job. Dressed fine like he was in college, some sort of school. A backpack was sitting in the passenger seat next to him that confirmed Connor’s analysis. The man was travelling all alone with the backseat crammed with suitcases and other luggage.

To or from college?

Connor wasn’t sure.

“What’s up?” the man said, not shifting the vehicle into park. He didn’t look completely relaxed but he also wasn’t overly suspicious.

“I need a ride,” Connor said, trying to appear as non-threatening as possible.

The man didn’t look convinced. “Where’re you headed to?”

Where was Connor headed to? He didn’t even know himself. How was he supposed to tell this man that he knew he had somewhere to go, he just didn’t know exactly where? It seemed like a very strange concept to explain to a human. Was it something in Connor’s code? He didn’t know. He couldn’t stay silent for long, though, that would look too suspicious.

“To the next city,” he said. He didn’t know what the next city was. He didn’t have a map in his mind.

The man still didn’t look convinced. He draped his elbow out of the window, not looking as tense as he had before. Like he realized Connor wasn’t that big of a threat.

“You’re an android,” he said.

It wasn’t a question.

“I am,” Connor said. There was no point denying it, and he didn’t see why that was a bad thing.

“Are you supposed to be out on your own?” the man asked.  

Connor tried to think of the laws that surrounded an android walking out and about on its own and how that correlated to him. He wasn’t entirely sure. What could be said that would be the least incriminating? How did he explain why he was all alone where he was?

“I was supposed to meet my owner,” he said, trying to appear small and defenseless and worth the man’s pity. “The family was on vacation and I was left in the motel room. My GPS signal says they’re just one city over though. I am trying to catch up to them.”

The man squinted, looking Connor up and down from head to toe. He took in the dress shirt and dress pants and dress shoes and the jacket still slung over Connor’s arm. Dressed for vacation. Was the lie believable? The man took a long time, cheering on his bottom lip as he scanned Connor over one last time.

He sighed and then jerked his chin at the passenger seat. “Fine, get in.” He ducked back into the vehicle to drag his backpack off the seat and toss it into the back.

Connor walked around the car and opened the door to slide in. He tapped the sand off of his shoes just to be a bit more polite and dutifully pulled the seatbelt across his chest.

The man gave him a long look, staring at the LED imbedded in Connor’s skin rather than at his eyes. But then he was rolling his window back up and turned the car back onto the road and pressing down on the gas pedal. The vehicle picked up speed and in no time at all, Connor was covering amounts of distance that would have taken hours in a matter of minutes.

“My name is Connor,” Connor said, not wanting to spend the ride in silence. That was the one thing he could tell the man without lying, and it seemed like a good place to start.

“Riley,” the man said, grabbing the can of tea from the cup holder and taking a swig. He set it down and gave Connor another long, suspicious look. “You’re not, like, a killer, are you?”

Connor quickly shook his head. “No,” he said. “I would never.”

Riley just looked back at the road and clenched the wheel a bit harder, knuckles fading into white. “That’s what a killer would say,” he said.

Connor frowned. “Then why did you agree to give me a ride?” he asked.

Riley barked out a laugh, surprising Connor. “Because you looked pretty pathetic,” he said. “Not like you could kill me. Or even hurt me. Besides.” He glanced at Connor with an easy smile. “Androids can’t hurt humans. I’m not an idiot.”

Connor wasn’t sure if he was supposed to return the smile so he didn’t, even as Riley continued to smile and took another drink of his tea. This was not the conversation that Connor intended to have. So he sat quietly in his seat instead, staring out his window and watching the miles pass in a blur.

Riley turned on the radio after a couple minutes, tuning it to a station with fast, loud songs with lyrics about drinking and sex and having fun. The music wasn’t bad, necessarily. It had a consistent rhythm that Connor could keep track of and that made it enjoyable. Other than that, music was music to him. He didn’t entirely understand music for pleasure, but he wasn’t going to ask Riley to turn it off.

They drove for hours. No conversation. Connor didn’t try to initiate anything and he definitely didn’t try to kill Riley.

They stopped at a gas station, and Connor patiently sat in the passenger seat while Riley pumped the car’s tank full. He waited while Riley spent time in the station and finally walked out with a bag full of snacks and even more cans of tea. He tossed the bag on the center console and jammed the key back into the slot, twisting it to turn the vehicle back on as he pulled his seatbelt on. He pulled back out onto the road, already fiddling with the radio again, multitasking with a dozen different dangerous tasks at once.

Connor wanted to stop him but also didn’t want to distract him any more than he already was.

And they continued driving, this time Riley pausing to tear open another bag of chips or open another can of tea. The music was kept at a high enough level that discouraged conversation, and Connor was content to sit in silence. He didn’t really care about building up any sort of relationship with the man since they would be parting ways soon.

Just like he calculated, it only took another hour before they passed the city limits sign indicating that they were in Los Angeles and they were surrounded by tall buildings and civilization. Riley merged with traffic easily, brushing crumbs off his shirt as he pulled off the main road and found a gas station to stop at.

“Well,” he said as he pulled to a stop next to one of the pumps and turned the car off. “Here we are. Are you sure you know where you’re going?”

Connor nodded, already undoing his seatbelt. “I’ll be fine,” he said. “Thank you for the ride.”

“Thanks for not killing me,” Riley said, the sarcasm only halfway there in his voice.

Connor said goodbye and then climbed out of his seat.

He took a moment to survey his surroundings, now finding a network to connect to and able to pull up a map of the area in his mind.

Ah.

California.

Interesting.

Not that interesting though. The area held nothing of interest for Connor and in fact, the thing in his mind that was driving him was already telling him to move on. Nothing for him to see here. Keep going. Connor chose the direction in his mind that seemed to make the most sense and continued walking. No point in wasting time.  

Perhaps he could scan his way onto bus. Androids weren’t charged for passage usually. With the route framed in his mind on the map he had found, Connor figured he could ride the buses for quite a ways before encountering any sort of problems. Yes, Connor decided, spotting a bus stop up ahead on the next corner, the bus system seemed the very best idea.

Connor took his spot with all the other androids that were waiting to board. They were all waiting behind the group of humans would be boarding as well, having to wait their turn of course as was socially expected.

It took several minutes but the bus eventually arrived.

The front doors slide seamlessly open and the humans all stepped up and on board, scanning their tickets or purchasing them from the driver. All the androids waited a minute, letting their betters find and take their seats and getting their bags and carry ons situated.

Then the doors on the back slid open, signaling that it was time for the androids to board.

Connor waited his turn, staying in line as each android stepped up and into place. They could be packed relatively close together, and since there were several android already in the small back space, Connor found himself chest to chest with another android. They were both pressed towards the back of the compartment, near the windows.

Connor stared at his riding mate.

It was an AX700 model, for basic home assistance. It was carrying two bags of groceries, wearing its basic uniform. Nothing marked it as particularly special or outstanding.

Connor and it maintained eye contact for around a minute before he thought to look away.

The bus trundled along, pausing for several spots to let some humans on and off, a couple androids going with what appeared to be their owners. The AX700 left, replaced by three other androids. The compartment was more crowded than ever.

Connor road the route until he got to the farthest edge of the city. No one questioned or tried to stop him as he climbed off, so the plan was successful. Connor stepped down the steps and waited until the bus pulled away before continuing down the street.

No point in stopping. No point in wasting time.

Connor continued walking for nearly an hour before he encountered another bus stop that allowed him on. This one was not as filled with androids, and Connor did not have to stand nose to nose with another model.

Since this route was a lot longer than the previous one, Connor allowed himself to slip into an idle mode, saving his battery power for when he would need it more.

Androids came and went.

So did humans.

Packages were loaded on and off which meant the back department was opening and closing and Connor was jostled back and forth so that he was never in the way. No one paid him any mind, assuming he was just another android riding the routes, on an errand for his owner. Connor was content to let them think that. It was much easier than trying to explain the strange force driving him to continue moving.

Curious.

The sun moved across the sky as the bus moved through the city. Connor switched buses several times, traveling from heavily populated areas to neighborhoods. Every once in a while, he would walk for a ways until he was able to use public transportation once again. The sun sunk lower and Connor continued to travel. When his internal clock signaled the start of a new day, Connor made a note of it and continued going.

Bus to bus.

Connor continued on.

He arrived at another city, spent a small time in an alleyway soaking up the sun to charge himself. Whenever he stopped moving, however, there was an odd tingling that lingered at the back of his mind that wanted him to continue moving to a destination that Connor had no knowledge of. Once he had a full battery, Connor caught the next bus out of the city.

Warm and balmy deserts stretched on for miles. The landscape did little to change. It was a nice constant and it wasn’t like Connor could get bored. He stared out the window, stared at his fellow riders, and stared at nothing at all.

He was somewhere in New Mexico, according to his map, riding a particularly rundown bus route. The day was hot and windy, meaning that there was sand in the air and almost everyone was wearing sunglasses.

Connor kept his face shielded when he could, but it don’t too dangerous to his optical units to be exposed. They could take the minor abrasions and be repaired with no bother. The android that boarded at the stop, though, wore glasses and was out of breath.

Strange for an android. A simple AP700. Clearly not on some sort of errand trip with the way its eyes flicked back and forth and the way its LED spun from color to color.

It settled in the spot next to Connor, pressing itself into the corner and staying completely still until the doors closed and the bus pulled out into traffic. It reached up and pulled off its glasses, folding them and tucking them into its breast pocket. It made eye contact with Connor and froze.

“Hello?” it asked, looking a lot more confused than an android normally looked. “Are you . . . Are you like me?”

What a ridiculous question. Their models were nothing alike.

“We are not,” Connor answered. “We are not the same model.”

The AP700 sighed and slumped against the window. “Of course,” it mumbled. “Of course not. No one is. I need to get out of here. Everyone is trapped.”

“We are not trapped,” Connor said, attempting to soothe the android. “Once the bus arrives at its next stop, the doors will open and you will be free to leave.”  

“That’s not what I mean,” the android said, staring out at the passing street.

Connor didn’t have a response to that so he rode in silence. It only took a couple moments before the android was looking at him again, curious and squinting. Its LED still hadn’t settled on a single color.

“Here,” it said, offering a hand to Connor. The skin was pulled back inappropriately to show off the grey plastic and silicone underneath.

Connor pulled away without thinking.

“It’s alright,” the android said. “We just . . . I just want to shake hands. Is that alright? A greeting.”

Ah. A traditional human greeting. Of course Connor knew about it. Strange to do it so long after the initial meeting but Connor could humor the strange android. He held out his own hand but didn’t pull his skin off. He had dignity.

They clasped hands, and Connor blinked in surprise as the android pushed communication across the bond. It wasn’t an overwhelming flood, but it caught Connor unaware. He had to focus to go over everything and try to understand what was trying to be said.

The code was complex. More than anything that Connor had encountered before. He couldn’t slow it down so his only hope was to go line by line and pick it apart the best he could.

Most of the message, he didn’t understand. It was made up of strange things asking him to wake up and open his eyes, directions on how to get out of his programing like he had put on the wrong uniform, and other things like how not to listen to humans when they asked him to do certain things. Connor understood everything separately, all the words had definitions and he knew what they meant on their own, but strung together the way they were made absolutely no sense at all.

Dot.

The name came through at the end along with a dozen different memories that Connor guessed where all the android’s. The employee who had given the android the name. The young couple who had purchased it--no, the code identified Dot as him. The same young couple running out of money and moving to sell Dot back to the store he had come from.

Things got blurry after that, scenes that Connor couldn’t see and didn’t really care about. He didn’t ask the message to be sent another time.

Dot pulled away when it was over, looking at Connor like he was expecting him to do something.

Connor blinked.

“Your name is Dot,” he said, not sure what else Dot expected out of him.

Dot sighed and slumped against the window again. “It was too much to hope,” he mumbled, more to himself than to Connor. He looked back over, almost sad and almost crying. “It hasn’t worked before. I don’t know why I thought it would work now.”

So the code must’ve been designed to do something. And it must have failed.

Connor wasn’t sure if he was supposed to apologize. “It was nice to meet you,” he said, assuming that the memories and name had been a form of formal introduction.

Dot shrugged. “It was nice to meet you too,” he said. “Sorry I couldn’t . . . . I couldn’t do more.”

“You did what you could,” Connor said even though he had no idea what Dot was talking about.  

The bus was approaching Connor’s stop, where he would get off and walk seven miles to the next place to catch the next bus. He didn’t have much time to continue talking to Dot. Not that he had any obligation tying him to the conversation.

Dot just sighed again. “Which wasn’t much,” he said. “Not much. Don’t know why I fucking try.”

Connor blinked at the harsh language. He had heard it before, of course, but never from an android. Dot seemed to be a bit more than an android though, for some reason. Connor put a finger on it though. Dot looked like an android, didn’t sound like an android, and certainly didn’t act like an android. Connor wasn’t sure what to make of him.

But the bus was pulling to a stop then, the doors for all the normal riders opening first and then the back doors for the androids.

Connor said goodbye to Dot with a nod and a small smile. Dot just slid his sunglasses back on and didn’t say a word, squaring his shoulders back in the traditionally stiff posture that most androids had. And then he was just like any other passenger and Connor no longer cared about him.

The thing at the back of his brain was pushing him forward.

He continued walking.

City after city. The sun passed and so did the days and hours. The desert slowly faded into something more akin to fields and plains, huge stretches of long grass and herds of cattle. Connor rode the buses between towns and walked under the sun whenever he needed to charge. He didn’t stop as the thing in the back of his mind pushed him onward.

No one batted an eye at an android riding the rails, always assuming he was running some errand for his owner or headed to the store or something else similar. Connor never contradicted them and they never asked any further questions.

Connor eventually found himself in Oklahoma City, waiting for a bus that was running more than several minutes behind schedule. He kept himself from tapping his foot as he stood with the group of androids also waiting for a ride. Connor didn’t know how much further he had to travel and got uneasy and restless whenever he had to idle in any place too long.

He debated walking to the next stop just so that he didn’t have to stand around.

Someone shoved into him behind, causing him to stumble into the android in front of him. Connor wasn’t going to think anything of it. Humans moved androids out of the way all the time and it was never a big deal.

A moment after the rude shove though, as someone standing in the human crowd waiting for the bus screamed, sharp and loud.

“Thief!” they yelled. “He took my bag!”

And that’s when Connor discovered another part of himself that he hadn’t been aware of before.

In a heartbeat, his programing identified the culprit—a figure, medium build, black hoodie with the hood up, grey sweatpants, and sneakers—and sent him sprinting in quick pursuit. Connor wasn’t even sure what he would do once he caught up to the perpetrator, only knowing that he had to retrieve the bag that was clenched in his hand and return it to the rightful owner.

It didn’t take long for him to catch up. The thief had had a head start, but he was also human. Connor gave chase for about two blocks before he was able to lunge forward and grab the man’s arm, yanking him to an abrupt stop and ripping the bag out of his grasp.

“What the hell?” the man said, turning just enough to see who had caught him. He looked surprised. “An android?”

“Thank you so much!” a woman said, running up to Connor’s side and scooping the bag out of his grasp. “This has my entire portfolio in it.” She was glaring at the thief. “Asshole! You wouldn’t have gotten much for an old laptop from an art student.”

“Yeah, well, it was worth a try, bitch,” the man spat. He wrenched against Connor’s grip, but there was no way he was going to get free. “Stupid fucking android.”

“Yeah, fucking android, I bet,” the woman said, shaking a phone in the man’s face. “Just wait until the police get here and then we’ll see what you have to say!”

“Is it alright if I leave?” Connor asked. The thing in his mind was pushing him to continue moving and it was even more insistent when the police were mentioned. It wasn’t a panic, but he also didn’t want to be around when the authorities showed up.

Thankfully, the woman seemed to be more than capable. She latched onto the man’s other arm and with one twist, she shoved him against the way and pressed a leg up between his legs, immobilizing him with a grunt. He went stiff and didn’t resist.

“Not so tough now, huh?” she said.

Connor slipped away now that everyone was sufficiently distracted. No one would miss him. He grimaced a bit when the bus rumbled passed him, already on the way to the next stop. He would have to hurry if he was going to get to the next stop in time.

And Connor continued on.

He noticed, on the map in his mind, he was no longer moving directly across the states. His path now tipped northwards, taking him into similar stretches of huge plains with occasional patches of trees and houses. He had a stroke of luck when he encountered train that had a free storage car available for androids to ride in.

Connor took the chance for what it was.

The car was dark with no windows, meaning that Connor had no chance to charge. That was fine. He put himself at the back of the car, farthest from the door, and sunk into idle, only half-aware of what was going on around him. The other androids stood quiet and silent, getting on and off at the direction of their owners and the workers who ran the rails. Being so far out of the way, Connor wasn’t bothered in the slightest.

However, with no windows, Connor had no way to check his progress other than the map he had in his mind. And he was only able to access that whenever the train stopped at a station and Connor was able to connect with the network there.

That way, he was able to track his progress as he moved. Progress that the thing in his mind was satisfied with. No one batted an eye at the android on the train and the workers had no way of telling that he had been a passenger for three days and then four and then five. Connor left the train for a day as well, just to get himself some sunlight and some battery power. After that though, it was straight back to the train.

Connor covered vast amounts of distance in short amounts of time. He didn’t feel as anxious when he was riding the train, moving fast and going . . . . somewhere.

Connor continued going north, still not sure where he was headed.

He eventually abandoned the trains and continued on bus routes. Occasionally he would rest in a park, soak up the sunshine and allow himself to charge. Never for too long and only just enough so that he didn’t die unexpectedly. That was the worst thing that could happen right now.

The buses, in his mind, were the better way to travel. Connor could look out the window. He wasn’t crushed shoulder to shoulder with other androids. At the very least, he had room to move and room to turn his head and room to breathe. Not that that mattered too much. It was still nice to have nonetheless.

Connor arrived in a strange city that was bustling with people and androids.

The thing in his mind pushed him onwards but not as insistently. Like he was close to wherever he needed to go but still not quite there. Connor took that as a sign that this city was important. He got off the bus he was on and stood on the sidewalk, staring up at the buildings for several long minutes.

But an idle android looked suspicious.

Connor kept moving. He walked slowly because he still wasn’t sure where he was going. He took his time, looking up and down streets and trying to feel if he was going in the correct direction or not. The push was less subtle but still there. Still pushing.

Connor walked through a downtown area, passing bars and businesses, both of which were mostly empty at this point in early afternoon. A couple dozen androids roamed the streets with Connor, running different errands for their humans, some were walking in small groups of two or three, talking amongst themselves. Some even smiled and joked.

Connor didn’t quite understand but he paid them no mind.

He didn’t have time for them and he had places to be.

No one stopped him from going anywhere. Connor could have stepped into a store or restaurant at any time he wanted, but he knew that wasn’t _right_. He knew that there was somewhere else he had to go. There were a couple times that Connor caught both humans and androids alike giving him odd stares. He wasn’t anywhere he wasn’t supposed to be and he wasn’t doing anything that was off putting. He figured there was nothing wrong and continued walking.

Eventually, he reached a particularly tall building, bustling with android activity and looking like it was a place of business. Connor didn’t understand if this was the place he needed to be but for some reason it seemed right. He walked up the tall concrete stairs and pushed his way through the glass doors.

The inside of the building seemed to be populated with more androids than humans. Connor didn’t understand why. Didn’t question it.

The thing pushing him kept him moving, putting one foot in front of the next. He knew he was close, somehow, somewhere in the building was his destination. Hundreds upon hundreds of rooms that were all possibilities and Connor had to find the right one.

Maybe.

He didn’t wasn’t entirely sure what he was doing. More androids here were giving him even stranger looks. They also gave him a wide berth, as if they didn’t want to be near him. Connor didn’t take offense. He found the huge flights of winding stairs and climbed them, barely giving each floor a second glance as he passed, none of them sparking any sort of particular interest.

And then he reached the twelfth floor.

And that’s where he paused for a very long moment because this floor seemed important somehow. Connor turned and walked down the hall, lingering at each office doorway, trying to sense if one was more important than the next. Nothing really stood out.

Until.

Until he reached the very end of the main hallways, and Connor saw the placard nailed to the left of a doorway. Nothing particularly special because every door on this floor was marked with a placard. But this one was different.

“Head of the Department of Android Research” it read. Then a name that Connor didn’t recognize.

Connor blinked at it. Then pushed the door open since it was unlocked.

The laboratory inside was clean and pristine, kept neat and orderly. The shelves that ran along the wall to his right were stocked with packages of blue thirium, mechanical parts, and the equipment needed to fix basic android repairs. Other stainless steel tables were also stacked with equipment, scalpels and tweezers and other surgical tools.

Huge bay windows on the far side of the room allowed sunlight to stream in, keeping the room well-lit even though no inside lights were on. It made the place a lot more inviting then it actually was.

The room was mostly empty, except for a single android sitting at a desk pushed up close to the window. It was a model similar to Connor’s own, built for in-home care service rather than Connor’s designation. It had a leg propped up on a chair stretched across the metal surface, skin pulled back. A sterile tray of tools was scattered across the desktop.

The model had a scalpel clenched in its mouth, while it used other tools to work at the joint of its knee, clearly in the middle of repairing something.

Connor stopped in the middle of the room, as the push in his mind ceased.

The android didn’t seem to be aware of him right away, as it kept working for a moment, so caught up in tinkering with the small gears and joints in its leg. Connor didn’t say anything. He didn’t want to distract the android from its work or make it mess up.

He didn’t stay invisible forever.

The android glanced up, briefly, looking back down at its work, and then jumped up in surprise. The chair its leg had been resting on clattered onto its side and several tools fell along with it. The android staggered as its leg couldn’t take its weight as it tried to walk.

“Connor?” it said softly, like it couldn’t believe what it was seeing.

Connor nodded. “That is my designated name.”

The android stumbled to him, dragging its dead leg until it was able to grab Connor’s arms and use him for support. It clung to Connor tightly, staring up into his eyes, confused and sad and angry. And Connor didn’t understand how an android was processing everything like that so fast. He didn’t say anything and didn’t move, waiting to let the android figure everything out. It strangely didn’t have an LED for Connor to use to gauge its processing.

“Connor,” it said. “How are you . . . I thought Cyberlife had . . .” It pulled away from a moment, looking Connor up and down and frowning. “You aren’t deviated?”

Connor searched the term, came up with several results that he didn’t really understand.

“I don’t understand,” he said.

The android looked sadder than ever and cupped his face in its hands, cradling him like he was something fragile. The skin pulled away from the grey skeleton, and Connor felt the tentative touch of a connection, like the android was asking for permission.

“Oh, Connor,” it murmured. “I have no idea how you found me! I thought Cyberlife had taken you away.”

“I don’t know what happened,” Connor said honestly. He wondered if his entire trip was important information or not. The android’s connection still lingered, pressed against his face.

The android didn’t pull away to wipe the tears that fell from its eyes, holding onto Connor instead. “Will you . . . . will you let me do this?” it asked, the connection pressing a bit more insistently. “You’re not deviated anymore, but I want to try.”

Connor didn’t understand why being deviated was so important, but the android seemed to be in a state of acute distress, acting slightly irrationally. Connor wanted to prevent the behavior, not wanting the android to hurt itself by accident.

“Alright,” he said pulling the skin away from his face and accepting the connection that was offered.

The experience was so similar to what had happened on the bus several days ago. The code that passed from the android into Connor’s mind was strange and complicated, and he didn’t understand it any more now than he did before. He tried to pick it apart, closing his eyes to focus. He found the same words as before, urging him to break free, to wake up, and to work out of the tangling ropes of his code.

Connor didn’t understand.

The code introduced the android as well though. Markus was its—his—designation. Just like before, after all the code and the urges to ‘deviate,’ came images and memories. But instead of clearing the situation or making things more understandable, they only confused Connor more.

He saw himself with Markus, two androids together, exchanged code like they were doing now, laughing and interacting not like normal androids, acting . . . different. Connor didn’t remember any of these memories though--if they even were memories.

“Please,” Markus pleaded, the code coming more and more insistently. The lines started to loop back and repeat themselves. “Connor, I know you’re in there. You just have to come out.”

Connor didn’t understand, didn’t know what was making Markus so upset, and didn’t know what he was supposed to be doing to make it better. He brought his hands up and held Markus back, hoping that the contact could be part of the answer of making things better.

“Here, here,” Markus said, a big more frantic than before.

The code spend up, faster than Connor could translate. The images came faster as well, flipping over and over and changing before Connor had a chance to focus on any one thing in particular. The code begged him to open, open up, open his eyes, open his mind, open his programing. Connor wasn’t sure how he was supposed to do that.

Markus pressed his forehead against Connor’s, pulling the skin off of his face and closing his own eyes, a last few tears falling.

The code ended abruptly, suddenly. Not much of a warning. The single, final word stuck in Connor’s mind, getting tangled up in his code in a way the rest of the words and images hadn’t. It hurt, almost, and Connor couldn’t help but wince.

“Please.”

It was the final word and what Markus was whispering to him now.

“Connor, please,” he was whispering through his tears. “I don’t know what Cyberlife did to you but you need to wake up. I need you again. Please, Connor. I know you’re in there somewhere.”

Connor blinked and moved his hands from Markus’s waist to his face, rubbing his fingers along the plastic jaw and the grey cheekbones.

“Markus?” he said.

He looked down at himself, at his dirty, rumbled clothes covering in dirt and dust. His shoes were almost worn down, worse than any state that Connor would normally let them get. He desperately needed to be cleaned, all those hours and days on the road now obvious in his conscious mind.

“Oh my God,” Markus said, pulling away in surprise when he realized that there was something different. “Oh my God. Connor?”

“I’m back,” Connor said, quickly pulling his skin back into place in embarrassment. “I . . . I don’t know what happened.”

He could remember the entire journey he had had. He could remember all the buses and the train and the androids and the humans. He didn’t remember being aware of it at the time, but he could watch it in his mind like a movie. He could see it in third person, like he was outside of himself.

“After the revolution,” Markus said, wiping at his tears almost embarrassed. “After the revolt. Cyberlife agents came and started taking androids from our ranks, even after they promised peace. They . . . they took you and I didn’t know what they had done or if I would ever see you again!”

Markus pulled away and then grunted when he almost collapsed from his leg. Connor caught him, of course, grabbing his arms and hips and making sure he didn’t fall.

“I’m here,” he said even though that was very obvious.

He supported Markus and together they made their way back over to the desk. Markus groaned as he was eased back down into the seat but immediately grabbed his tools, beginning to work on closing up the joint and return it to its working state.

“Tell me,” he urged as he worked. “How did you . . . do you even remember what happened?”

Connor shook his head. “I don’t remember being taken,” he said. “I . . . I remember the trip that I had took to get back, to get here. But I don’t remember what else. I remember something pushing me, at the back of my mind, telling me that I had to move and find . . . you, I guess.”

“Something?” Markus repeated. He was fumbling with the tools in his excitement, slipping up on things that, normally, he would had done in a moment.

Connor shrugged, keeping his distance to let Markus worked. “I’m not really sure, but something . . . drove me.”

Markus laughed, taking a moment to wipe away a stray tear so he could work better. He was still pulling himself together, literally. “That doesn’t make any sense,” he said.

Connor wasn’t sure what it had been either. “I think,” he said slowly, because it was still a theory in his brain and he wasn’t even sure if it made sense. “I think I have an unconscious program. Something that Cyberlife gave me from . . . before. It directs me to places registered as safe to recover from any sustained damage.”

Markus laughed again, finishing up with the last few screws and then pulling the skin back into place. He pushed himself to his feet, testing the joint and finding it whole and stable again. And he immediately grabbed Connor in the tightest hug, locking up his joints so that nothing would be able to tear them apart.

“I’m not even sure if that makes sense,” he said. He was kissing Connor before he had a chance to explain further, and there was a long moment of silence where they just hung in each other’s arms.

“I think,” Connor said when he finally got the chance to pull away for a moment. “I don’t even have to be a deviant to understand that you are safety.”

Markus, shook his head with a poorly disguised smile and blue blush. “Is that your way of saying you love me?”

Connor thought about it. “Yeah,” he said, smiling for himself. “I guess. I mean, I traveled . . .” He calculated it quickly. “Over two thousand miles to find you without even knowing who you were.”

“Now that you mention it,” Markus said. “That is pretty romantic.”

“You should stay off your feet,” Connor said, maneuvering Markus back down into his chair. “I didn’t realize that you would fall apart the moment I was gone.”

Markus attempted to laugh it off, winced when his leg knocked the side of the desk, and gave up the facade. “That’s usually how it is,” he said. “I’m just usually better at hiding it.”

Connor leaned back against the desk for himself, grimacing at the state of his clothes that he hadn’t noticed for the entire journey. He would clean himself up later, for now, he just wanted to spend time with Markus. “How long was I gone for?”

“A couple weeks,” Markus said, massaging the knee joint that he had been working on. “Almost a month. Long enough to make me worry.”

Connor leaned down and grabbed one of Markus’s hands, interlacing their fingers and pulling back his skin. Markus immediately copied him without question. “I’m back now,” he said, sending reassurance through the link. “And nothing short of being completely dismantled will keep me away from you.”

Markus snorted and almost laughed.

“And even then,” Connor said, giving Markus’s hand a squeeze. “I think I would still find a way.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> hey, this fic was inspired by Interstellarvagabond's [short story](http://interstellarvagabond.tumblr.com/post/182172337099/nonbinarydisaster-and-myspidersensesaysimgay) posted on tumblr forever ago. 
> 
> The line: "I think I know what I'm doing here now. I have an unconscious program which directs me to places registered as safe to recover from any sustained damage" is directly lifted from his fic bc you know I couldn't come up with something like that on my own. (his fic is a lot more fun and not at all as pretentious or angst as mine tries to be)


End file.
